


Ramiel

by masquerade97



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-09 00:05:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17396315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerade97/pseuds/masquerade97
Summary: Supernatural events and backstory from the point of view of Ramiel, a Fallen Angel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason i logged into fanfiction.net for the first time in like, three years, and i was reading through this old fic i found and i really enjoyed it so i figured i'd transfer it over here and finish it. [also available over here, the first sixteen chapters are already up](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11182765/1/Ramiel) but be aware that before i continue the fic, the whole thing is being overhauled and several points will probably change. that fic will change and update as this one does  
> tags and characters will update as the fic does, but where the fic deals with canon it'll be fairly compliant until season 9 or 10 (since that's what was airing when i started writing it lol)  
> [as always i'm over here on tumblr](http://titlecomingsoon.tumblr.com/ask)

It was a hard time, all those years ago, when the angels fell.

It was back before the apocalypse, before the Temples burned, all the way back to the events that led to the flood that purged the planet and sent Noah and his family sailing on an ark for forty days and forty nights. The angels, two hundred of them, had come to Earth from Heaven, bringing with them knowledge forbidden to humans. They had seen it cruel that their father should leave these intelligent creatures, some of his favorite creations, without this knowledge to further themselves. But if this weren't insult enough to their father, many of them sought out human women and took them for wives, and from these unions came the nephilim, unholy creatures of great strength and endurance, often with little sense of remorse.

The offending angels were cast out of Heaven, their wings clipped and ruined. Many were punished severely for their sins in Heaven's darkest dungeons.

One angel, Azazel, had taught them to make knives and swords and shields. These instruments had run rampant across the Earth, corrupting a great deal of his father's creation. Azazel refused to repent for what he had done, and his digression was severe enough that was bound and cast into darkness. Over time this caused his essence to twist and darken until he, like his brother Lucifer, became an agent of Hell.

Some of the angels, in fact a great deal of them, repented and begged their father's forgiveness. Many were allowed back into Heaven, their standing greatly diminished.

But a few scoffed at their brothers' repentance. They would not apologize for bringing light to humanity when their father had left them in darkness. This group of angels had not committed the greatest of crimes, but they were not blameless either. Their punishment was to walk among humanity, with ruined wings and without purpose. Ramiel was among this group.

Ramiel had worked with Gadreel in teaching the humans cosmetics, which led to vanity and Pride. This, however, had only been Ramiel's first offense. Gadreel had also taught humanity the use of weapons and killing blows, as well as letting his guard down and allowing Lucifer into the Garden. Gadreel had been reduced in power after he pleaded for forgiveness after Eden, but teaching humanity to fight and kill had been enough to land him in Heaven's dungeon, even when he begged for his father's forgiveness.

Ramiel had been distressed when he learned of Gadreel's fate, but all his prayers and pleas would do nothing to improve Gadreel's position. Ramiel doubted pleading would even improve his own situation very much. The best he could do was be grateful he and his brother had escaped more severe punishment. What more than that could he do? His father's word was final, and with his wings clipped and his communication cut off, he had no way back to Heaven even if he was welcome. So, he did the only thing he could do: he dusted off his vessel and tried to find himself a niche.

Being without his wings proved to be a difficult existence, especially since he was still an angel. Ramiel needed no sleep or food, and so made an excellent worker, but his lack of basic human needs troubled many, and he was cast out of many communities on the belief that he was an unholy creature.

 _Unholy,_  Ramiel thought with a smirk on one such occasion.  _What a thing to be considered._

As the years wore on and humanity went through its cycle of prosperity, war, and famine, Ramiel wandered. He never lingered in a place for too long. He worked when he could, helped heal the sick at times when he was sure Heaven was preoccupied with other matters and wouldn't give him a second thought. He would watch the humans fight each other in bouts of competition and war, and he would think back to his brothers Azazel and Gadreel and how well they had taught humanity.

There were times when Ramiel would come across his fallen brothers and sisters, and they would acknowledge each other, perhaps exchange information or gossip, and then be on their way. Many of his siblings had grown weary of Earth and wanted to go home, to have purpose again. Ramiel had no such qualms. He didn't particularly enjoy the human experience (it was frightfully boring most days), but he refused to admit that he had been wrong to teach humanity, especially now that they had built such wonderful societies for themselves.

Sometimes Ramiel would run into his winged brothers and sisters, and he would ask for news of Heaven, of those who had been punished all those years ago before the flood. But the angels wouldn't speak to him. They would nod a greeting or give him a curt response, but they never spoke at length about why they were on Earth.

But one day, Ramiel noticed that all was quiet where the angels were concerned. Ramiel didn't see his brothers with any real frequency, but he could feel the lack of angelic power the same as he would feel a sudden change in temperature. Something had happened, something big enough that the angels needn't bother with Earth, and now they were gone. If they were waiting for something, Ramiel was afraid he knew what that something would be.

Once, perhaps two or three centuries after the angels disappeared, Ramiel noticed someone. Someone with wings.

 _Impossible,_  he thought. He couldn't think of any reason for an angel to venture to Earth after so much silence. And what was more, Ramiel couldn't feel his brother's presence.

"Peace, brother!" he called out upon approach. The other angel turned toward him. The vessel wasn't particularly impressive; a little on the plain side perhaps, not very imposing, easy to blend into a crowd with; but when Ramiel caught sight of his brother's true face behind the mask, he stopped short.

"What are you doing here? Why are you not in Heaven?" Ramiel asked. The question came out surprised, a chirp rather than an accusation. He stood slightly straighter as if he could reclaim some of his former dignity in front of his brother, his brow furrowed.

The other angel smiled at him sadly. "Ramiel," he said. "A pleasant surprise."

"Why are you here, Gabriel?" Ramiel asked again, his voice much more firm. "No angel has been to Earth in centuries. The last time I saw you you were tying Azazel."

"There is fighting within Heaven," Gabriel said simply, shrugging his shoulders. He looked into the distance over Ramiel's shoulder, as if distracted by something over there, or perhaps by something he'd heard and was trying to pinpoint.

"So they send an archangel to Earth? Brother, you are not being clear," Ramiel said, stepping back into Gabriel's field of vision.

"No one has sent me," Gabriel said with a sigh, meeting Ramiel's gaze again. "I left."

"You left?" Ramiel was shocked. No angel had ever willingly left Heaven. Heaven was home. All angels confined to Earth or Hell had been cast out.

"I warded myself against my brothers, and I left." Gabriel's voice was growing angry. "The constant fighting is tearing Heaven to pieces. We do not know where father went, and our brothers and sisters do not understand why."

"Where father went?" Ramiel didn't understand. Father never went anywhere. "What do you mean where father went? Do you and the other archangels not know?"

Gabriel barked a laugh. "You yourself should remember how little our father tells us," Gabriel said bitterly. "I would rather be down here, away from the fighting before Michael and Lucifer kill each other and half of creation than try to follow the wishes of our father, when we are not sure what those wishes are."

Ramiel was taken aback. Father's wishes had always been so clear. Ramiel himself had once been tasked with helping the souls the reapers took to find Heaven. That had been his task. He had done what he was ordered, until he broke rank and was cast out.

Gabriel could read the confusion on Ramiel's face, and he smirked at him. "You have too much faith in our father," Gabriel said, shaking his head.

Ramiel's face hardened. "Is this all the news you bring?"

Gabriel sighed. "Michael and Raphael are keeping a close eye on those of you who have fallen, and they are feeling particularly ruthless this century. Any more nephilim and they will destroy you thoroughly this time."

Ramiel raised an eyebrow at his brother. "I expect nothing less."

"Perhaps we will meet again before that happens," Gabriel said sadly, as if Raphael and Michael would find a reason to destroy him in any case. Gabriel turned to go but paused again, studying Ramiel. "A piece of advice," he said finally. "Warding will serve you well in the coming years." And then in a flutter of wings, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Ramiel had taken his brother's advice and warded himself against Heaven. He couldn't shake the growing unease he felt as it sunk in that their father would just up and leave. The seriousness of Gabriel's reveal and the fact that Gabriel would even consider leaving Heaven settled like a rock on Ramiel's conscience. Gabriel had never shirked his duties, not once, even when he wasn't comfortable with them. Ramiel could still remember the pained look on Gabriel's face as he bound Azazel.

No, something had to be very wrong. If their father had left Earth in the care of the Angels without explanation... Well, Ramiel wasn't sure what that meant, but it couldn't be anything good.

As the years went by, Ramiel continued his wanderings. He changed vessels a few times as his vessels started to deteriorate from hosting an angel of such high rank, but he felt he'd finally found one that would last; he felt that in settling in this body he finally understood having something "made to measure" - there was nothing uncomfortable about how he occupied this body. He almost didn't notice when this vessel stood up for years where others had worn out in months.

After his first thousand years on Earth, Ramiel decided that humanity wasn't so bad. His warding against Heaven was strong, so he rarely ran into his brothers unless he wanted to, and that was okay with him, though he did spot Gabriel once after their initial meeting.

Gabriel had noticed Ramiel first, and called him over.

"You're warded," Gabriel said simply.

"I am. Your advice seemed sound," Ramiel replied. Gabriel seemed different, and it wasn't that he'd taken a new vessel. He seemed more human, in a way.

Gabriel studied Ramiel for a moment. "You're still just wandering and getting by, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ramiel said, slightly confused. "What else would I be doing?"

"Living, for one," Gabriel said with a smirk. "You've been down here a thousand years and you're just existing! Look around you!" He swept his hand in a gesture that indicated the world at large. "I'm telling you, these humans know how to have a good time. And the food and drink aren't so bad, once you get used to them."

Ramiel blinked at Gabriel, at a loss. "You are telling me to...? What? Eat, drink, and be merry...? With the humans?"

"Yes!" Gabriel exclaimed, exasperated. "You know the fight's coming just as well as I do." He looked up at the sun, as if judging its angle to tell the time. "And you have just under a thousand years to enjoy before it happens," he said, looking Ramiel in the eyes, his face serious.

"A thousand years? Is it that soon?" Ramiel asked.

Gabriel pressed his fingers to his forehead, like he was trying not to lose his patience. "The Winchesters will be born in a little over eight hundred years. And then less than thirty years after that, the apocalypse."

"I had not realized just how much time I had spend away from Heaven," Ramiel said. Then after a moment he added sadly, "I cannot hear them, you know. The voices of our brothers, mortal prayers - they are silent unless I focus most of my energy on listening."

"I know," Gabriel said.

"How?" Ramiel asked, surprised.

"Our father had Naomi damage that part of every angel he sent away."

Ramiel was silent as he struggled to comprehend this.

"Father...does not want me to be able to hear my brothers and sisters?" he asked.

"Part of your punishment," Gabriel said. "You can't return to Heaven, you can't hear Heaven. But you still have your grace, so you're still an angel." After considering this a moment, Gabriel added, "He's a cruel son of a bitch sometimes." Then, at the offended look on Ramiel's face, Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. "We're all thinking it," he said with a wild grin. "Might as well say it."

"I do not know about that," Ramiel said, but he couldn't quite stop his mouth from turning up slightly at the corners.

"You can smile!" Gabriel said, feigning shock. Then a devious smile spread across his face. "Go socialize with the humans. Eight hundred years and counting." He seemed to consider something before adding, "And no nephilim," before vanishing.

Ramiel was a little offended that Gabriel felt the need to remind him a second time not to have children with humans. He had learned thoroughly the consequences for such actions, both divine and the more troublesome mundane. Besides, with Michael and Raphael apparently on the lookout for fallen angels who couldn't behave themselves, he wasn't exactly going out of his way to cause trouble.

But he decided to heed his brother's advice to try to enjoy himself. Eight hundred years wasn't very long in the grand scheme of things, especially since Ramiel had been around to help his father create the cosmos.

And so it seemed rather soon when it was a only century later that Ramiel began to notice something strange. With Heaven locked up, there was no one to protect humanity from the monsters that lurked in the shadows. He had of course seen the werewolves and vampires and shifters and other nasty things before; it wasn't unheard of for these monsters to be roaming and attacking. Usually, the angels had been assigned to keep them manageable so they didn't run rampant on humanity. But now, with the angels all safely in Heaven, the monsters were getting bolder. They lived closer to humans, attacked more often, and took more victims.

What caught Ramiel's attention was that many of the people he knew began creating lore about these creatures.

Over the years, Ramiel had become a part of many communities. He would come in on the pretense of being a trader in need of a place to stay, and would end up finding work, a place to stay, people to build bonds with. He supposed Gabriel had been correct about the food - that if one ate enough of it it became less unpleasant. Eating still wasn't his favorite thing, but the humans tended to gather around the table for meals and gossip, so Ramiel often found himself at a gathering, eating food that tasted like nothing and hearing stories that tasted like wonder. He loved the stories people told, and sometimes he would tell one himself, if it wouldn't give him away.

But one day, while he was attending dinner at a friend's home in Rome, a man told a story that made it real to Ramiel that Heaven wasn't in working order as it should have been.

"I was taking a walk through the vineyard," the man, Julius, said, "and I thought I heard a wild animal. A growl, mind you, and it sounded savage. I looked around me and saw nothing, but I felt as if someone was watching me."

Ramiel ran his finger around the lip of his glass, amused by Julius' dramatic tone; the man had a habit of being theatrical in his tellings. The other attendees were leaning forward in their seats, enraptured.

"After a moment, the feeling was gone. I heard footsteps running from me, quickly too, faster than any footsteps I'd heard before," Julius continued.

"You didn't happen to catch a look at this, did you?" another man asked.

"I wish I had," Julius said, but his voice was unnerved. "I brushed it off, but as I made my way through the rows, I saw something ahead of me, laying unmoving on the ground." Julius spread his hands before him to illustrate what he had seen. "When I came upon it, I realized what it was."

Everyone was stone still, eagerly anticipating what Julius had to say, but he seemed reluctant to give voice to what he saw. In fact, Ramiel noticed, he looked very upset over it.

"Well?" someone asked, voice hushed. "What was it?"

"A young girl," Julius said quietly. "Her chest was ripped open."

Ramiel felt the blood drain from his face, and his hand halted its motion above his wine glass. He hoped against hope that Julius wouldn't say what he thought would be said.

"It was worse than you can imagine," Julius said, his voice trailing off. "I had the oddest feeling something was missing."

The room had fallen eerily silent, no one daring to speak. Ramiel's mind was reeling. He had had dinner with Julius just last week, and he hadn't been shaken up, so this event had taken place sometime in the last week. Ramiel thought back to the lunar cycle. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he remembered that the full moon had been only three days ago.

But a werewolf? In Rome? Never had a creature ventured into such a populated area to feed; even with the angels lacking in their patrols, the werewolves hadn't attacked such a populated area that he was aware of.

_They're getting bolder,_ Ramiel thought. _Probably realizing Heaven isn't stepping in to stop them._

The dinner was over shortly after that, but Ramiel hung back, waiting for everyone to leave so he could speak with Julius alone.

"I do hate to be an ungracious host," Julius said when Ramiel was the only one remaining in his foyer, "but I would prefer to be alone just now."

"Julius, I know what it is you heard in your vineyard," Ramiel said, foregoing all pretense.

Julius was mildly taken aback. "You do?"

"I've seen them before," Ramiel confirmed with a nod. "It's a monster, but it can be killed-"

"How?" Julius interrupted, relief and fear mingled on his face.

Ramiel decided not to mention that he had just been about to tell him and instead told him simply, "Silver through the heart. Silver is poisonous to them."

"What does it look like?" Julius asked, eager now.

"Human."

The men stared at each other for a moment, Julius hoping Ramiel was joking, Ramiel waiting for some kind of outburst.

"You're... You mean to tell me a person did this? No person could have done this! And silver-"

Ramiel held up a hand, effectively silencing the other man. "The monster looks human most days and nights. On the night of the full moon, it changes."

Julius was silent a moment, then his face grew angry. "Do you intend to make a fool of me? I know what I saw! I won't be put at ease with a bedtime story about werewolves!"

Ramiel shrugged and turned to leave, seeing that he wasn't going to convince Julius either way. Before he stepped out, he added, "I'm not trying to make you a fool, Julius. It is a werewolf. You know how I know?" Julius just glared at him, waiting for him to leave. Ramiel's shoulders slumped slightly when he said, "A werewolf always eats the heart." And then he turned and left.

For the next month, Ramiel kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Of course, he knew he wouldn't have an easy time of finding and tracking a werewolf when the moon wasn't full, but that didn't stop him from staying sharp. He practiced fighting with his angel blade, something he hadn't done in a few years, and found that it wasn't something he could easily forget; it was almost programmed into him.

When the next full moon came around, he took to walking the streets at night. He kept his senses on high alert, something he hadn't done in a long time. And though he had never been in a groups of angels sent to clean up the monsters, he knew what to look for. Claws and sharp teeth, a low growl, a distinctly canine smell. Brewing legends were already cooking up the image of a man transforming into an animal. While Ramiel appreciated the dramatics, he knew he'd have to correct that notion if anyone was going to take over hunting these things in place of the angels.

It was after midnight when Ramiel heard the growl. It was coming from an alley, near the main square. Tightening his grip on his blade, Ramiel padded quietly toward the sound; he was more than capable of outrunning a werewolf, but he wanted to make this quick so as not to send the nearby residents into a panic.

The growl became louder, a constant rumbling in the quiet night, but it was interrupted by a crash and a scream, and Ramiel was running toward the sound, any sense of stealth quickly discarded. He came upon a house with the door broken in, the room inside in disarray. Ramiel flew into the house and bounded up the stairs, towards the source of a tortured wailing.

The scene was gruesome. A man lay on the ground, his chest bloodied. A woman, presumably his wife, cowered in the corner, a small knife in her hand, trying to ward off the creature that was stalking her. Ramiel didn't have time to process this, though, as he leaped at the werewolf and drove his blade through its heart. The wolf didn't even have time to yelp.

The woman in the corner stared up at Ramiel, who went to check on the man. Dead. Just as he had suspected.

"Stay away from him," came a shaky voice from behind him.

Ramiel turned to see the woman standing and pointing her knife at him, hands shaking.

"Put the knife down," Ramiel said calmly.

"Like hell," the woman said, her voice still trembling. "What was that?"

"A werewolf," Ramiel said simply. "It didn't bite you did it?"

"What? No. A werewolf?"

"A werewolf." Ramiel leaned forward to get a better look at the woman's knife. The silver glinted in the moonlight. "Excellent knife. Had you had your head about you, you could have killed the werewolf with it."

"What?" the woman asked again.

"Silver. It is poisonous to werewolves. Stab them through the heart with silver, and they will die."

The woman blinked at Ramiel, confused. "So what's that thing you have? Doesn't look silver."

Ramiel looked down at his angel blade. "No, it isn't silver," he said. "It's a special blade. And that's all you need to know."

"But what- How did you-"

"Madam," Ramiel said, cutting her off. "You have just had a run-in with a monster you never should have seen, and I apologize for that. Tend to your husband's remains, in any way you need to. I will take care of the monster."

The woman had lowered her knife and was staring at her husband's body. "It was so fast," she said. "He didn't have a chance."

"I know," Ramiel said gently, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "I will be back in three days, and I'll show you how you can defend yourself against these things."

The woman didn't appear to hear, but she nodded all the same.

Ramiel gathered the werewolf's body and headed back out into the city, the neighborhood still asleep, seemingly uninterested in what had just happened.

After teaching that woman how to defend herself, Ramiel moved on. With the monsters attacking more and more, there was no time to waste. He traveled as quickly as he could, and every person he saved wanted to learn how he had done it. So he taught them how to tell when a person was actually a monster, taught them ways to defend their homes. If they couldn't afford the silver knife, he would get them one.

Before he left each of these new hunters, Ramiel would ask them to swear never to divulge this information to anyone, unless that person was in immediate danger. Each of the hunters agreed, and it only took a few decades for a network of hunters to develop, spreading over Europe and mingling with similar such networks that already existed in Asia and Africa. Ramiel never bothered to reveal how he'd come to have this information, and he never gave anyone his real name. He certainly never told anyone he was an angel. People didn't need to know about angels, and they wouldn't for another seven hundred years.


	3. Chapter 3

Several years passed in relative quiet. As decades went, this one was slightly more eventful where demon possessions were concerned, but Ramiel found that the networks of hunters that had continued to expand took care of the problem more quickly than he had expected them to. It left him with more free time than such an event should have entitled him to.

Ramiel had done quite a bit of traveling and found himself on a ship to the so-called 'new world.' He was still unsure as to how he'd ended up on that ship, but he couldn't say he was disappointed to have found himself on it. The land was beautiful, as it always had been. He enjoyed being where he could see the subtle influence on nature of the people who had lived there for centuries, so he had taken to exploring it, as he had with the other continents.

It was on a warm, peaceful midsummer day that Ramiel was stretched out in a field, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sound of the breeze rustling through the tall grass. His eyes were closed and he began to wonder what it might be like to take a nap in such a place, what dreams he might have if he could.

His musings were interrupted when he heard a familiar flutter of wings and felt a presence in the grass beside him. He groaned inwardly, then thought better of it and groaned aloud. He glared at his brother.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your nap?" Gabriel asked, not sounding sorry in the least. He was seated on the ground and picked idly at the grass. "Lovely day for one."

"Is this just how it's going to be with you?" Ramiel asked. He didn't bother sitting up. "You'll show up every few hundred years or so to check up on me?"

Gabriel smirked at his brother. "Checking on you wasn't the first thing I had in mind-"

"That is not surprising."

"I have information I thought would interest you," Gabriel said, not acknowledging that he'd been interrupted.

"Wait, how did you find me?" Ramiel asked, immediately sitting up and mentally checking his warding.

"I have eyes, you know. You aren't invisible," Gabriel said, one eyebrow cocked. "Besides, I can move quickly." As if to drive this point home, he spread his wings behind him; they were gold with shimmering silky feathers - easily a twenty-foot wingspan.

"Stop showing off. Those things are ostentatious," Ramiel said with an edge in his voice. He tried to hide the fact that he was jealous of his brother's wings as Gabriel folded them carefully under his vessel, but he doubted the sadness was hidden. His own wings still ached, clipped and folded in this body as they were. Useless.

Gabriel's expression softened to something closer to pity. "You still can't hear Heaven?" he asked.

"No. Of course not," Ramiel said. He was surprised at his brother's question, but more than that the answer left a dry taste in his mouth. He felt his vessel start to heat with his anger before he managed to get a hold of himself.

Gabriel nodded, not reacting to Ramiel's display. "I figured," he said, his tone neutral and guarded against whatever conclusion Ramiel might try to draw from him. "Let me fix that."

Ramiel started. "Fix it?"

"Right."

"Just like that?"

"If you'll stop talking, I'll try," Gabriel said, not unkindly.

Ramiel decided not to think about it too much. He leaned forward and gestured for Gabriel to get on with it and he felt his brother's fingers on his forehead. There was a rush of energy that didn't abate at first, giving Ramiel the distinct impression that he understand what an electric shock _really_ felt like. He closed his eyes against the feeling and after a (rather unpleasant and slightly painful) few moments, Ramiel felt as if something clicked into place, sending all that built up energy to wherever it was supposed to go. What followed was an influx of noise in his head so sudden that Ramiel lost his balance and had to lean back on one hand to keep from falling over, his eyes flying open in his surprise. Where there had been silence in his mind for more than two thousand years, he could hear the voices of the other angels. It was overwhelming to hear them again, and for a moment he was lost in the noise.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet and reverent, his eyes on the ground.

"No problem," Gabriel said.

Something in Gabriel's voice pulled at Ramiel's attention until he looked back at his brother to find Gabriel nearly out of breath, sweat beaded on his brow.

Ramiel squinted in confusion, but couldn't help the smirk on his face. "Fixing Naomi's handiwork takes that much out of you?"

Gabriel glared at him. "When the right tools aren't available, sometimes brute force is the best option."

Ramiel had the strangest feeling that there was a double meaning to that, and he thought as quickly as he could about what Gabriel could have possibly done while muscling his way past Naomi's careful adjustments.

"I didn't _break_ you if that's what you're looking so panicked about," Gabriel said. "That's why it took so long."

"How reassuring," Ramiel said, returning his expression to neutral as quickly as he could manage. "I don't suppose that was your main reason for coming to check on me?"

"No," Gabriel said. He shrugged one shoulder and looked away. "But I figured you'd been punished enough. I came partially because I noticed you taught the humans to hunt."

"Heaven wasn't helping," Ramiel said. He cocked his head to one side, unable to resist feeling proud that Gabriel had noticed. "I couldn't let those things just get to humanity when our father wanted us to protect them."

"I suppose not," Gabriel said. He leaned forward and resumed fidgeting with the grass. After a moment, without raising his gaze from the ground, he asked in a measured voice, "Do you remember those two hundred angels you came to Earth with all those years ago?"

"Of course," Ramiel said, taken aback by the question.

"Do you know how many went back?"

"Not exactly," Ramiel said, brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "At least half went back as soon as they were allowed. I imagine at least half of the rest of us have returned since then."

"One hundred fifty?" Gabriel asked. He sounded almost impressed. "You're close," he conceded. "A hundred and seventy-five went back. Total. Some right after it happened, but others have gone back over the centuries."

"So twenty-five are still fallen?" Ramiel asked. All things considered, he wasn't sure whether to think of that as too many or too few.

"No," Gabriel said, shaking his head and finally looking back up to Ramiel's face. Sadness and anger burned in his eyes. "There are eight of you."

A stunned silence fell over them as Ramiel tried to figure how seventeen angels could be unaccounted for. He elected to ignore whatever Gabriel was angry about.

"How?" Ramiel finally asked. "There's nothing down here to kill us, except ourselves. But we've stayed away from each other."

"Heaven wouldn't take them back, for various reasons," Gabriel said. From his tone, Ramiel assumed this was what Gabriel was angry about. "They couldn't handle it after a while."

"Seventeen," Ramiel said quietly, looking at the ground and shaking his head sadly. After a moment, he said, "I appreciate you telling me, but why would you think I would want to know?"

"Oh, that isn't what I thought you would want to know," Gabriel said, as if this were obvious. As quickly as his gloomy mood had appeared, it evaporated. "I waited until now to tell you that part instead of telling you two hundred years ago because I wanted to follow it up with news that you _would_ want to know."

Ramiel stared at his brother for a moment, not saying anything. "Is that right?" He wondered how many times Gabriel planned on changing the mood of this conversation.

"Oh yeah," Gabriel replied, visibly cheered. "You remember Uriel?"

"Yes?" Ramiel said, not sure where this was going. "He and I used to take souls from the reapers and guide them to Heaven." He inclined his head. "Hard to forget someone you spent so much time with."

"Right," Gabriel said, suddenly taking on the air of a child with an exciting punchline. "Very important job he had. And he stayed down here for a while after the flood, like you. The whole _'I'm too good to ask for forgiveness'_ thing."

"Do you have a point?" Ramiel asked, his annoyance returning.

"Of course I have a point," Gabriel said, looking put-out. "I always have a point."

"Please make it."

Gabriel rolled his eyes theatrically before continuing. "About fifty or so years ago, he called up to Heaven, asking to be allowed back. I personally never would have let him back in, but they did. And you'll never guess who he's serving under."

"No, I probably won't." It was too strange for Ramiel to imagine Uriel serving under anyone, save their father and the other archangels. "The last time we were both agents of Heaven, we were both archangels. He only took orders from our father and any of the rest of us at the top."

Gabriel laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Who do you think it would be most ironic for him to serve under?"

"You," Ramiel said immediately.

Gabriel didn't look as amused as Ramiel thought he would have. "I was already in charge of him," he said. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and he added, "I technically still am if Michael and Raphael haven't demoted me in my absence."

"I meant if you had him as a servant, but I understand."

"Please take my question seriously."

"Are _you_ taking your question seriously?"

"Seriously enough that I _do_ have an answer."

"Fine," Ramiel said, and he thought back to the other levels in Heaven. He couldn't be sure who was still there, or if anyone who had begged forgiveness had regained their status. There was also the bit about Gabriel's sense of humor.

"I don't know," Ramiel finally said. "Just tell me."

Gabriel pursed his lips, disappointed. "Guess." When Ramiel cast him an annoyed look, he added, "Just guess," with a dramatic eye roll. "A real guess. Play along."

Ramiel sighed, exasperated. "I don't know. In case you've forgotten, I haven't been to Heaven in two thousand years. I don't know who ranks where. I don't know how low they dropped him."

Gabriel still looked disappointed, but his eyes were excited. "He's serving under Castiel."

Ramiel blinked at Gabriel, his face blank. "Castiel?" A nod from Gabriel. Ramiel paused and took a moment to look around himself to make sure he was still where he thought he was. "Are we talking about the same Castiel?" he asked.

"The Castiel who was an archangel until he started disobeying orders? The one who was demoted because that would make him easier to control?" Gabriel asked, ticking the points off on his fingers. "The Castiel who has to be handed over to Naomi at least once every century to have his head screwed back on straight so he can act like an angel and not a person? The one who's always had a little too much affection for the human race? The only Castiel there has ever been or ever will be in Heaven? That Castiel?"

Ramiel nodded and Gabriel added, "Yes, that Castiel."

Ramiel might have laughed if it weren't actually believable. "And how is Uriel taking this?"

"Not well," Gabriel said simply, eyes laughing. "You remember how he looked down on Castiel when _Castiel_ was demoted. Though the idea of Castiel taking orders from Anna was a little strange," he allowed. "Anyway, now Uriel is taking orders from Castiel _and_ Anna, so he's upset."

"I can imagine," Ramiel said, his mouth turning up at the corners. "Former archangel Uriel taking orders from former archangel Castiel taking orders from Anna."

"See? You get it," Gabriel said, clapping Ramiel on the shoulder.

Ramiel shoved Gabriel's hand away. "I was surprised when Castiel didn't join us in coming to Earth all those years ago," Ramiel said, brow furrowed.

"Had you waited another decade, he probably would have," Gabriel said. At Ramiel's curious look he just shrugged. "That was when Naomi went and screwed with his head next. A little more preemptive than was probably necessary, but he probably would have gone with you." His head tilted thoughtfully. "I doubt any of the nephilim would have been his fault though."

"In any case," Ramiel said, "thank you for telling me."

"Any time."

"What else of Heaven? Do you know how they are?" Ramiel asked. He was desperately hoping for some news of their father, but he knew that if that news was available, Gabriel wouldn't have bothered telling him anything else.

Gabriel shrugged. If he had detected his brother's unasked question, he didn't acknowledge it. "It's not like I took a vacation up there. Popped in to check the place, left just as quick. A runaway isn't exactly what they want to see right now."

"I suppose not," Ramiel said, crestfallen. He stretched his legs out in front of himself and watched the skyline in that direction.

Gabriel sighed. "Well I didn't see Balthazar, but if I had to guess I'd say he's as arrogant as he's always been and always will be. Michael and Raphael have regained control, so there wasn't any actual fighting that I could see. Uriel's pissed at serving under Castiel; I imagine Castiel is being gracious about the whole thing in that annoying way he has, but I bet he's actually a smug bastard under that."

Ramiel thew his head back and laughed at that. "You know, he probably is."

One side of Gabriel's mouth turned up at his brother's amusement. "I should be getting on my way," he said. "I'll let you get back to... What were you doing again?"

"Nothing," Ramiel said. "It was quite relaxing actually."

"Right."

"It wouldn't kill you to slow down every so often, you know."

Gabriel just shook his head and stood. Then a thoughtful look crossed his face, as if he were forgetting something, and he turned to face Ramiel. "One more thing-," he started.

"If you say 'no nephilim' one more time, I swear I'll cut your wings off myself," Ramiel interrupted, sensing his brother's next remark.

"I was going to tell you to get yourself some chocolate," Gabriel said innocently, holding up a small piece of the confection. "Might cure you of whatever is compelling you to sit here doing _nothing_ instead of heading out for a good time. We only have two hundred years left." He tossed the sweet to Ramiel, who caught it mainly out of reflex.

"Two hundred years," Ramiel said thoughtfully.

"That's right. Have fun," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "But not too much."

Ramiel was miffed that Gabriel was gone before something could be thrown at him.


	4. Chapter 4

The knowledge that only two hundred years remained before the apocalypse didn't spur Ramiel to do anything but think about it slightly more often than he usually did. The timeline had been altered enough at this point that Ramiel wasn't even sure how the event was supposed to play out, considering his script was almost three thousand years out of date. He listened to the other angels frequently, partially because he was relieved to finally have part of his connection to his siblings restored, but also because he was starved for information on what was going on where Heaven was concerned.

Unfortunately, other than usual status reports or idle chatter, the other angels didn't seem to have much more of an idea of what was going on than Ramiel did.

Ramiel thought this was disappointing, but not surprising.

What _was_ surprising, however, was the fact that, somewhere between the Pacific and the Atlantic, more than halfway over to the next century, Ramiel felt a hum of energy that none of the angels seemed interested in addressing at all. It was a low thrum, the kind of vibration that settled close in one's bones without disturbing one's ears. It was a sinister feeling, but despite his best efforts to eavesdrop, Ramiel could find no evidence that the angels cared at all. In fact, there was no evidence they even realized it existed.

Ramiel rode toward the disturbance, which was vaguely west of him. The feeling was so broad he couldn't quite pin its exact location from so far away, so he simply turned his horse in the right direction and started riding. And after several weeks of this, his horse started to be more reactive. Not enough that he noticed at first, but there was something in the air that the animal wasn't sure of.

It was surprising to Ramiel to find a town so close to the source of the disturbance - even from this distance he could see the sign read 'Sunrise.' This close to the source he felt that his bones were resonating with whatever energy was flowing through the air. His horse seemed to have grown accustomed to the feeling, but Ramiel could swear it was bearing down on him. Indistinct voices whispered in the air.

He was focusing on these sounds when he heard a gunshot ring out. His horse drew up short at the sound, its ears pricked forward. The horse wasn't too keen on moving on when Ramiel urged it to continue, but eventually bobbed its head and walked on.

On the main road, just a little ways into town, Ramiel could see two figures, one standing and one kneeling. And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Ramiel could tell by the way his horse snorted at the sight that he hadn't been mistaken; for just a moment, he'd seen an angel there, with battered wings on display as the angel had grabbed the two figures and made a getaway. It had been a while since he'd seen someone accomplish it, but he recognized the way the angel wrapped his wings around himself and his passengers and melted into the timeline.

There was nothing remarkable about the spot where the two figures had vanished, except that anyone who had just seen this display were immediately wary and made a quick escape. A revolver lay discarded in the dirt, and a pile of ash lay only a few feet from it. Curious, Ramiel dismounted and knelt to inspect the ashes, paying no mind to the distrusting looks the locals threw in his direction.

The ashes were fine, like powder, with a foul, vaguely human smell. Ramiel hadn't seen ashes like these in... well he wasn't sure how long, centuries at least, but he was sure what they had come from.

"A phoenix," came a voice from behind him.

Ramiel looked up and saw an old man dismounting beside him. The street was clear now, but he could feel the stares of the townsfolk from their various places.

"Is that so?" Ramiel asked, keeping his eyes on the old man as he knelt beside him. "Didn't think they were still around."

"I didn't either," the man said, sifting through the ashes. He glanced up at Ramiel. "Name's Sam Colt."

"Abe," Ramiel said, shaking the old man's hand. He never could make himself comfortable with the idea of giving someone his real name. "How do you know it was a phoenix?"

"Some kid. He came by saying he was from the future. Needed my gun to kill a phoenix so he could get its ash."

"Your gun?" Ramiel asked. "You have a gun that will kill a phoenix?"

Colt nodded, reaching over to grab the revolver that had been abandoned. "Special gun, this is. It'll kill anything that moves. Vampire, poltergeist, demon. Might kill an angel, but I've never met one to try."

"Is that right?" Ramiel asked. He tried to hide how wary he suddenly was of this mundane weapon, but he didn't think Colt noticed one way or another.

"Made it myself," Colt said, smiling slightly, a proud look on his face as he turned the weapon over in his hands, inspecting it for damage.

"Why would someone from the future need to kill a phoenix? Hell, why'd he have to come here, of all places, to get at one?" Ramiel wondered, privately, if the phoenix was related to whatever had been tugging him in this direction.

"Don't know." Colt shrugged. "Probably aren't any where he is. Said he needed the ashes to kill what he was fighting."

Ramiel had a sinking feeling; the first thought that came to mind of what could be poisoned by phoenix ash was Eve. And if she had gotten out of Purgatory, then the future must be in bad shape. But where did _that_ fit into the apocalypse?

"How do you know he was from the future?" Ramiel asked. Maybe the time traveler had shared some bit of information that would help him put the puzzle together.

"He had this on him," Colt said, fishing something out of his pocket. It was what looked like a little box with a set of lettered buttons on it. It lit up when Colt hit one of the buttons, with several cracks like a broken mirror across its surface. He held it out for Ramiel to inspect. "I'd never seen anything like it, and there isn't anything around to make it. He also had a copy of my journal, with today's date and the entry, saying that my gun killed a phoenix; said that's how he knew to come here."

"What year did he say he was from?" Ramiel asked, turning the device over in his hand and testing to see what the buttons did.

"Two thousand eleven, I think," Colt said. He shrugged as if this were the least interesting part of the story and he wasn't all that concerned anyway. "And I think I'd better find a way to get these ashes to him. He sounded in trouble." Colt took a glass bottle from one of his saddle bags and started filling it with ashes from the pile.

"How are you going to get them to him?"

Colt was silent a moment, filling the bottle with a thoughtful look. "If I had an address," he said, "I think I'd mail it to him. Tell the post to hold it until two thousand eleven." He grinned at this thought, as if he could imagine how it would go over.

"Well, there's a date here," Ramiel said, indicating the text on the device. He punched a few buttons, quickly figuring out how the thing worked. "There's a lot of information here." He selected a different option and was greeted by text that read _GPS Signal Not Found_ across the top of the light up display. Below that however, was something that looked promising. "I think this is an address. In Sioux Falls, South Dakota?"

"South Dakota?" Colt asked. "Might have heard of Sioux Falls, but there's no such place as South Dakota."

Ramiel shrugged. "See for yourself," he said, holding the device so Colt could see the text.

Colt studied the words on the screen for a moment before shaking his head. "You sure that's where he'll be?" he asked, corking the bottle.

"It's labeled 'home,'" Ramiel said hopefully, offering the device to Colt so he could have a better look.

Colt studied the screen again. He pulled out his journal and made a note on a blank page with the address, and then asked Ramiel to show him what the date on the other screen had been. Ramiel showed him, and Colt made a note of that as well. He ripped that page out of the journal and tucked it into his saddle bag with the bottle and the device. He made another note, presumably the one the kid had mentioned seeing, about the gun killing the phoenix.

Both men looked back at where the pile of phoenix ash had been, lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

"I wonder what it is they're fighting," Colt finally said, thoughtful.

"Nothing good, I'll bet," Ramiel said, his voice expressionless.

"Well, I will say I'm glad I won't be around to see whatever it is," Colt said, shoving himself to his feet.

"Sounds like bad news," Ramiel agreed, following Colt's lead and standing. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that, depending on when exactly the apocalypse was and when this thing was loose, he might very well still be around to see whatever it would be.

There was another brief silence, then Colt said, "I'd best be getting this boxed up and off to post. Talk them into holding it for a hundred and fifty years."

"That I'd like to see," Ramiel said, his mouth turning up at the corners. He wondered what the cost of that would be. "But I need to be moving on."

"Right. Monsters to fight," Colt said. Ramiel thought his voice sounded energized, and his eyes were bright.

The men said their good-byes and mounted their respective horses. Ramiel decided to head over to the next town before stopping; he didn't have the best feeling about hanging around where a phoenix had been. He noticed Colt start riding out of town, in the direction of whatever presence had drawn Ramiel this direction in the first place.

"Say," Ramiel called, making Colt stop and turn his horse so they were facing each other. "What's out there anyway?"

Colt chuckled to himself. He rode closer to Ramiel, so he wouldn't have to shout. "A devil's gate," he said when he was close enough. "A door to Hell."

That certainly explained the whispers. "And you don't have demons clawing their way out?" Ramiel asked. He wondered if the gate had been opened the decade before, if that had led to the uptick in demon possessions. It had been a while since he'd dealt with a gate that wasn't entirely secure.

"Oh, they used to," Colt said simply. "Not so much a problem anymore. You know, it's funny. People around here, they think I'm crazy, building railway lines from nowhere to nowhere," Colt's eyes were shining as he described his project, "but iron rails, in the shape of a pentagram, with a church at each point?"

"No demons in or out," Ramiel finished, impressed. "That's brilliant."

Colt grinned wickedly. "The only way to open that devil's gate is with my gun. So even if a demon gets in, he can't open the thing."

"You may be the most ingenious hunter I've ever met," Ramiel said, eyeing the gun in its holster at Colt's hip.

"Oh, I don't buy that," Colt said. "But it should eliminate that gate as an access point to Hell as soon as it's sealed, and that's what I'm going for."

"If that doesn't keep them in Hell, I don't know what will," Ramiel agreed.

Colt tipped his hat. "Careful out there," he said. And with that, he turned his horse around and rode down the street and out of town.


	5. Chapter 5

The turn of the twentieth century was supernaturally quiet. After the issue with the phoenix, Ramiel had continued west until he hit the ocean, and then spent the remainder of the century in several charming towns on the coast before leaving the area again - this time heading back east and slightly north. He figured he hadn't seen that area yet and now was as good a time as any, especially with the countdown to the apocalypse running out.

Sometime in the late 1930s, or perhaps the early 1940s, Ramiel was on a train through Ohio when he felt a temporary rift that ruffled his feathers. It was so slight, so quick, he might have thought he'd imagined it if the hair on the back of his neck hadn't stood straight up. He checked in with the chatter of the other angels, but they weren't saying anything that would help him in this case.

But what else was new?

A preliminary check of the local news revealed nothing out of the ordinary in the area, and Ramiel brushed the feeling off; whatever it was seemed to have not been a threat. Ramiel would have left it at that if he hadn't felt the rift again only a few weeks later.

With his full powers, Ramiel would have had an easy time of locating the source of the rift, but his absence from Heaven had started sapping his power not long after he'd fallen. All he could figure at this point was a general direction, and so he bought a train ticket out that way and kept his senses on high-alert for another tear.

Part of him hoped whatever it was would happen again soon so he could look into it, and he was disappointed to have that wish granted. The good news was that it was only a few miles east of where he'd imagined he felt it the first time. The bad news was that he felt the not-quite-familiar sensation of time beating against his grace, like waves on the shoreline. He couldn't tell whether this thing was coming or going, so there was the distinct possibility that he'd never discover what the cause of the rifts was.

It was early November when he arrived in Canton. On the surface, nothing was amok. That was the first thing Ramiel noticed, and he would have been tempted to leave if he hadn't felt a distinct supernatural presence. It didn't exactly feel sinister, but it didn't feel particularly friendly either. And there again was the sensation of the waves of time lapping against him in a steady rhythm. Ramiel had had his fair share of accidental run-ins with other deities and super-powerful beings, and he had the sinking feeling he knew who this was.

 _But if this is Chronos,_ Ramiel thought, _what is he doing here?_ But if the titan's motives were a mystery, his identity was not; his presence set off a familiar warning in Ramiel's grace, and of that group Ramiel thought that only Chronos would have so much power over time that his essence would tick like a clock.

As Ramiel reached the street where he was sure he would find Chronos, he could feel time vibrating around him, almost unstable in how it held on to itself, and the feeling only grew stronger. It was cold out, and more than one chimney released smoke to curl up into the sky, completely immune to the feeling that was making Ramiel's grace set off alarm bells in his head.

He had just reached the house where he was sure Chronos was hiding when the instability in the timeline shattered and a red light flashed against the curtains in the window. Ramiel recoiled at the light and the sudden wave he felt as the timeline opened. There was a feeling like a riptide, and when a curtain moved aside from whatever was going on in the room, Ramiel caught a glimpse of where Chronos had gone- a small room where a man and a woman stood with the air of those who had just summoned the titan, and Chronos was struggling with another man. But that was all Ramiel could see through the tear before it sealed itself shut and time resumed its calm forward current.

That had never happened to Ramiel before. Any time an angel needed to travel through time, they simply bent the timeline and stepped seamlessly through to when they needed to be. Chronos, it seemed, would create a hole through all the years he was crossing and step through that, and Ramiel had just caught a glimpse into the hole he had created.

Left in Chronos' wake was a woman, on her knees in the middle of the room, weeping into her hands. A man knelt beside her, as if trying to offer comfort. The curtain released from whatever it had snagged on and fell back into place, blocking Ramiel's view.

"It was Chronos, wasn't it?"

Ramiel turned to see Gabriel beside him, wearing a different vessel than the last time. "Yes." This wasn't exactly a surprising place to find Gabriel, but he had to admit he hadn't thought his brother would bother checking into the events of the evening.

"I thought so," Gabriel said. "He's been coming and going from here for the past year or so." He shook his head and stared at the curtains as if watching what was happening on the other side. "You know, he wasn't so bad," he said, then seemed to think better of that statement and amended, "Well, he hasn't been so bad recently."

"You knew him?" Ramiel was surprised at this. As far as he knew, he and his siblings had always tried to leave other deities alone. It hadn't been a hard-and-fast rule, but in practice they'd all left each other to their own devices.

"Oh yeah," Gabriel said. He turned and started walking back up the street, leaving Ramiel no choice but to follow him. "You think I've been sitting around down here waiting for the apocalypse? No, there's no fun in that. I think I've mentioned it to you before." He gave Ramiel a once-over and sniffed irritably. "I see you haven't taken my advice." 

"So what _have_ you been up to?" Ramiel asked, not sure he really wanted to know. "Besides finding new vessels."

"This one fits," he said, patting his chest. "But, I made friends with quite a few other gods. Nice guys, most of the time. I told them I was Loki, since telling them I was an archangel didn't seem like the right move, what with their general contempt of us."

"Loki?" Ramiel asked, brow furrowed as he tried to place the name. "You mean the Norse trickster?"

"I gotta tell you," Gabriel said, "being a trickster is a lot more fun than I thought it would be."

"And where is the actual Loki?"

"Some other world," Gabriel said, waving the question away. "Won't be back for a while, so I figured I'd take his place. Temporarily," he added when he saw the look on Ramiel's face. "It's a great gig, I'm tellin' you."

"Tricksters hurt people Gabriel," Ramiel said emphatically.

"What, and archangels don't?" Gabriel asked. "We've hurt almost as many as we've helped. Don't try to convince me otherwise Ramiel," here he held up a hand to stop Ramiel's protest, "I was there. I know what we did."

"But a demigod?" Ramiel had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. That was a whole different class, and there was no telling what the others (angel or otherwise) would do when the ruse was discovered.

"Hey, I'm using my title for good," Gabriel said, indignant.

"What if you get caught? Imagine if Michael found out what you're up to."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing anything big enough to convince Michael he needs to come investigate. He probably thinks I'm dead anyway. All I'm doing is giving people a taste of their own medicine. It's...poetic justice. And," here he pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, "I get candy."

"You could get candy anyway," Ramiel said dryly.

"Candy goes with the title," Gabriel said. He took a bite of his chocolate and held his hands wide in front of himself. "The trickster has a sweet tooth. It's in all the lore. Read it myself to make sure I had the right information before I tried to convince the big guys of anything."

"You have always seemed to have a taste for sweets," Ramiel allowed. He remembered their last encounter, when Ramiel had so desperately wanted to throw Gabriel's candy back at him, but hadn't had the change before Gabriel had disappeared. He wondered how quickly he could find something to throw at him now.

"And a taste for poetic justice," Gabriel said.

"I don't know about that."

"In any case, I've taken over as resident trickster. It's good fun - you should try it."

"I think I'll pass."

Gabriel shrugged. "Suit yourself. But the other gods aren't so bad."

"I will keep that in mind the next time one of them has a knife to my throat," Ramiel said, pursing his lips as if seriously considering doing so. His memory of his last run-in was foggy at best at this point, but he remembered it as a wholly unpleasant experience.

Gabriel smirked at him. "We've screwed them over just as many times as they've screwed us over."

"I suppose that's true," Ramiel remarked thoughtfully. "But do you think Chronos will be back here? That felt like a summons, not a voluntary exit."

"Who knows?" Gabriel shrugged again. "He might and he might not. Depends when on his personal timeline he was here. If it bothers you that much, stick around and watch for him."

"I think I will," Ramiel said, glancing back at the house. There was a new car parked in front of it, and another light was shining through a side window.

"You're a little too fond of humanity for your own good, Ramiel," Gabriel said. "You remind me of a certain someone else."

Ramiel shrugged. "Unless you plan to have Naomi meddle around in my head, I'm disinclined to be concerned."

"You know you have the strangest way of speaking?" Gabriel said. He stopped and watched Ramiel for a moment. "It's like you can't decide whether or not you've been living with people for three thousand years."

Ramiel blinked at him, confused. "I do not know what you mean."

" _That_ ," Gabriel said, pointing at Ramiel as if his words had frozen in front of him. "One minute you sound like anyone else, and the next you sound as formal as you did when you came down here." Gabriel squinted at him, as if the answer to his question was written in small print on Ramiel's forehead. "No one thinks that's strange? How much time have you even _spent_ talking to people down here?"

Ramiel drew himself up taller, stiffening. "I have never had anyone question my speech."

They stared at each other for a tense moment before Gabriel finally shook himself. "Whatever, _brother_. It isn't important."

"You're the one who brought it up," Ramiel grumbled.

"Forget it then," Gabriel said. He allowed a moment or two to pass in silence, seemingly unwilling to leave. "I just can't believe it."

"It?"

"There's less than a century before the big fight." Gabriel's voice was quiet and faraway, but there was something darker there too that Ramiel couldn't place. "Then this will all be over."

Ramiel wasn't sure what to make of the ominous tone in his brother's voice. "Will you go home then?" he asked.

Gabriel's gaze was haunted when he met Ramiel's eye, and Ramiel thought, for the first time in a long time, that he remembered exactly how terrifying he and his siblings really were. "I suppose that depends on whether there's still a home to go back to." He shook his head and spread his wings, and in the next beat, he was gone.


End file.
